Qi Yang Long indeed went to the Xi Ma Wei post station in person to urge the young feudal lord to leave the capital with his troops. However, as soon as the old man stepped out of his carriage, the postmaster rushed over, holding a small cloth pouch in both hands. Not daring to confirm the old man’s identity outright, he cautiously asked, “May I ask if the esteemed elder is from the Secretariat of State…?”
The postmaster’s question was deliberately vague—mentioning the office but not the title—so that even if he was mistaken, there would be room to recover.
The old man nodded and hummed in acknowledgment, then asked, “Has the Northern Liang King already left the capital?”
The postmaster’s knees nearly buckled, but luckily, the old man had already taken the pouch from his hands. He weighed it in his palm and muttered, “A seal?”
The postmaster, who had almost collapsed, stiffened his back, flustered and red-faced. The Xi Ma Wei post station had always been a place ordinary officials avoided like the plague. He had only been assigned here last year after accidentally offending a minor official in the Ministry of War, left to fend for himself. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would one day speak face-to-face with the Grand Secretariat himself! When the postmaster had heard from the prince that Qi Yang Long of the Secretariat would visit Xi Ma Wei that morning, he hadn’t taken it seriously, thinking that at best, a third- or fourth-rank official might show up—already an unimaginable stroke of luck. Gritting his teeth, he threw caution to the wind, desperate to exchange even one more word with the Grand Secretariat to bring glory to his family. Trembling, he asked, “Grand Secretariat, would you care to rest for a while inside the post station?”
Qi Yang Long smiled and was about to politely decline when he suddenly remembered something. “Does Xi Ma Wei have any Green Ant Wine?”
The postmaster nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, yes!”
As he led the Grand Secretariat into the inner courtyard of the post station, the postmaster deliberately made a show of bustling his subordinates around. Qi Yang Long saw through his transparent ploy but didn’t expose him, allowing the man to guide him into a secluded courtyard.
The postmaster quickly fetched a rattan chair for the old man, explaining that the prince often reclined in it to rest, and that the previous postmaster had mentioned the prince’s fondness for it during his last visit to the capital.
Qi Yang Long lay back in the chair, appearing to rest with his eyes closed. The postmaster, holding two jugs of wine handed to him by a subordinate, didn’t dare disturb him and instead stood quietly under the eaves, bent at the waist.
After resting for about the time it took an incense stick to burn, Qi Yang Long opened his eyes and asked softly, “When the young prince handed this to you, what did he say?”
The postmaster slapped his forehead. “Ah! I nearly forgot! The prince did leave a message. He said that if the Grand Secretariat himself came, I was to tell you that this little trinket was borrowed from a scholar surnamed Zhang, and now it’s being returned to the scholars of the world. But if it wasn’t the Grand Secretariat who came, I was to say nothing.”
Qi Yang Long was taken aback. “A scholar surnamed Zhang?”
The Green-Eyed One? Impossible—Zhang Ju Lu would never have any private dealings with Northern Liang. Even if such a relic existed, it should have been given to Huan Wen.
Ah, then it must be the Sage of the Zhang family, the Duke of Yan Sheng.
Qi Yang Long slowly stood up, tucked away the small pouch, and took the two jugs of Green Ant Wine from the postmaster. With a smile, he asked, “Have you tried this wine?”
The postmaster wiped his brow sheepishly. “I had a few sips yesterday. It’s… quite harsh, burns the throat.”
Then, trying to flatter, he added, “Grand Secretariat, if you must drink it, please take it slow.”
Qi Yang Long chuckled and left without another word, carrying the wine.
Pay him?
The old man didn’t even consider it.
If he had given silver, how would this nameless official dare boast to his colleagues about meeting the Grand Secretariat? How could he use this encounter to further his career with a clear conscience?
Tai’an City, Tai’an City.
A city of great peace, yet how few here truly have peace of mind.
※※※
At today’s court assembly, the young feudal lord who had turned back at the gates yesterday was conspicuously absent, much to the disappointment of the increasingly restless Rouge Army.
The Vice Minister of Rites, Jin Lan Ting, had already missed two consecutive morning assemblies, having excused himself from the elderly Minister of Rites, Sima Pu Hua. He had even stopped attending his ministry altogether, shutting himself away and refusing visitors—reportedly even turning away close associates like Gao Ting Shu and Wu Cong Xian.
After the Vice Minister of Personnel, Wen Tai Yi, and the General of the Eastern Pacification, Ma Zhong Xian, were appointed as the Military Commissioner and Deputy Military Commissioner of Jing’an Circuit, the current head of the Peng family swiftly took over as Vice Minister of Personnel, while the high-ranking imperial guard Li Chang An replaced Ma Zhong Xian as the new General of the Eastern Pacification.
Amid the bustle of the court’s dismissal, eight hundred light cavalry, carefully escorted by the main force of the Western Capital Garrison, were already on their way to the eastern border of Ji Province.
The Western Garrison cavalry, relieved that no further disturbances seemed likely, muttered among themselves about how difficult it was to both invite and send off gods—especially this Northwestern Feudal Lord and his eight hundred White Horse Righteous Followers. Rumors swirled that the Northern Expedition General Ma Lu Lang had been scared to death, and one of his units had suffered heavy losses just two days prior. The street outside the Imperial Observatory was still stained with blood. The private troops brought to the Southern Capital Garrison by the Minister of War, Wu Zhong Xuan, had also suffered heavy casualties for no apparent reason—apparently after clashing with the young feudal lord at the Ministry of War, where a fierce southern general had been beaten half to death on the spot.
The Western Pacification General Zhao Gui, a scion of nobility, seemed to have fallen gravely ill, unable even to get out of bed, let alone ride in armor. Thus, only the Hu Cavalry Commandant, Wei Chi Chang Gong, remained as the backbone of the Western Army.
After traveling over a hundred li beyond the Western Garrison, several riders from the Northern Liang cavalry turned back, halting in place. The Western Garrison cavalry, who had been following at a safe distance, saw this and hesitated. Wei Chi Chang Gong himself rode forward cautiously, spotting the figure of the Northern Liang King among them. His heart pounded as he approached slowly.
Dressed in simple robes with a white jade belt, Xu Feng Nian gently nudged his horse forward alone, stopping beside Wei Chi Chang Gong. After a moment of silence, he gazed at the distant cloud of dust kicked up by the larger Liang cavalry and said, “Commandant Wei Chi, I apologize for the trouble we caused you on our way to the capital.”
Wei Chi Chang Gong stiffened, his heart tightening. Was this a prelude to violence? The Hu Cavalry Commandant didn’t dare respond immediately, fearing that any misstep might provoke this notorious Xu family scourge and bring disaster upon his two battalions.
Xu Feng Nian smiled. “Further west, we’ll soon be met by Ji Province troops. You may escort us no further.”
Wei Chi Chang Gong swallowed hard. “Your Highness, it’s not that I refuse your kindness, but my orders are clear—the Western Garrison cavalry must escort you to the Ji Province border.”
Xu Feng Nian raised an eyebrow. “Orders from Wu Zhong Xuan? Or Tang Tie Shuang?”
Wei Chi Chang Gong’s face twisted in discomfort.
Just then, a single rider galloped toward them from the northeast.
Xu Feng Nian sighed and rode forward to meet the unexpected guest.
The two men faced each other from twenty paces apart. The man before Xu Feng Nian was slightly older, lacking the aristocratic air of the Western Pacification General Zhao Gui or the martial bearing of Wei Chi Chang Gong. Had he appeared on the streets of Tai’an City, he would have seemed no more than an ordinary scholar.
The man shifted in his saddle, rubbing his backside with a grimace. “I still can’t believe it’s really you. When I returned to the capital, I heard rumors of a young swordsman named Wen Hua challenging Qi Jia Jie in Tai’an City. I didn’t believe it was the same man I once knew. Was it him?”
Xu Feng Nian nodded. “It was. But… he no longer practices the sword.”
The man’s expression darkened. “Back in Wu Province, did you already know who I was?”
Xu Feng Nian shrugged. “After a few drinks, you told Wen Hua yourself that you were the eldest grandson of a great general of this dynasty. I’m not deaf… Wen Hua didn’t believe you, just like he thought I was full of hot air at first. When I returned to Qingliang Mountain, I learned exactly who Ma Wen Hou was. There are only a handful of generals in the Liang Dynasty with titles like ‘Zheng Ping Zhen,’ and only one family with the surname Ma.”
The man murmured, “Back then, we couldn’t afford good wine. Cheap liquor goes straight to the head—what could I do?”
Xu Feng Nian studied the scholar he had once met by chance in Wu Province, his expression complex. Back then, Ma Wen Hou had been a lone traveler, fond of writing travelogues, who stumbled upon Xu Feng Nian and Wen Hua gambling over chess in an alley. After losing all his money, he had latched onto them. They spent over two months together, with Wen Hua and Ma Wen Hou constantly at odds, bickering over trivial matters. Wen Hou never believed the stingy, impoverished scholar was actually from a noble family, while Ma Wen Hou refused to accept that a wandering swordsman with a wooden blade could ever amount to anything. Yet, unwilling to rely on his family’s connections while traveling, Ma Wen Hou remained perpetually broke—and frustrated that he, a disciple of a Liang chess master, couldn’t win a single game against this Xu fellow. He stubbornly stuck with the two rogues for nearly three months before finally parting ways to cross the river and journey south.
Ma Wen Hou looked Xu Feng Nian in the eye. “If you hadn’t known me, would you have visited the Northern Expedition General’s residence during this trip to the capital? Would you have sought vengeance?”
Xu Feng Nian nodded. “Of course.”
Ma Wen Hou’s face twisted in pain.
Xu Feng Nian said coolly, “The grudges of the older generation are what they are. If you feel your grandfather Ma Lu Lang was wronged, if you think the old debt remains unsettled and now it’s the Xu family that owes the Ma family, you’re free to come collect from me, Xu Feng Nian, in the future. As the Ma family’s eldest grandson, I wouldn’t find it strange.”
Ma Wen Hou suddenly roared, “Do you think I, the Northern Liang King, would just let this go?!”
Xu Feng Nian patted the Northern Liang saber at his waist, leaning back with a mocking smile. “Back when we were both penniless, did you ever beat me at chess? Now I’m one of the world’s four great masters, commanding three hundred thousand iron cavalry as the Northern Liang King. You want to challenge me? I doubt even a vice-minister would have the gall to stand against me. A minister might barely qualify. If you, Ma Wen Hou, want to be my rival, you’d better become the head of the Secretariat or the Chancellery—then you might stand a chance! Just like how the Green-Eyed One was a match for my father, Xu Xiao. Tell me, Ma Wen Hou—should I wait a few years for you? Or a few decades?”
Ma Wen Hou’s eyes burned red.
Xu Feng Nian smirked. “What, still not convinced? Your family’s thousand-odd heavy cavalry were nothing special. As a scholar, do you really want to humiliate yourself?”
He turned his horse, raising a hand in a dismissive wave—a gesture dripping with sarcasm.
Ma Wen Hou shouted after him, “Xu Feng Nian, you bastard! Just you wait!”
Xu Feng Nian didn’t even glance back, riding away without a care.
In the distance, Wei Chi Chang Gong, who had witnessed the unpleasant exchange, broke into a cold sweat for Ma Wen Hou’s sake. If the Northern Liang King decided to kill him, it would be over in an instant—his two thousand cavalry could do little more than collect the body. After all, the feudal lord had caused such an uproar in Tai’an City without facing consequences. What was the newly bereaved Ma family heir to him now?
After a moment’s hesitation, Wei Chi Chang Gong abandoned any thought of continuing the “escort” into Ji Province. With Ma Wen Hou’s outburst, he feared becoming the Northern Liang King’s next target.
As he rode past the young feudal lord to approach Ma Wen Hou, Xu Feng Nian unexpectedly clasped his hands in farewell. The stunned Hu Cavalry Commandant hastily returned the gesture.
Back among his own ranks, Jia Jia, perched on her horse, stared at Xu Feng Nian in confusion.
He plucked the sable hat from her head and placed it on his own, chuckling. “If I can be Xu Xiao’s son, why can’t he be Ma Lu Lang’s grandson? The world doesn’t work that way. It’s better to live with something to strive for than without.”
Glancing at the half-hidden face peeking from behind a carriage curtain, he teased, “No need to hide anymore. The tail’s gone—even if you, Chen Yu, step out and gallop off, no one will stop you.”
The White Horse Righteous Followers—more accurately, the Feng Battalion—were led by the burly Commandant Yuan Meng, who had once accompanied the young lord on his travels. He rode up, grinning. “Your Highness, those Capital Garrison cavalry are such cowards! No fun at all!”
Xu Feng Nian glared. “Enough of that. Bullying the weak doesn’t make you a hero.”
Yuan Meng pouted. “Your Highness, this humble officer just doesn’t want to give up my Feng Battalion command. If you’d let me fight at the border as a commandant, I’d head straight for Tiger Head City!”
Xu Feng Nian snorted. “The You Province cavalry are short on officers. How about resigning as Feng Battalion commandant to become a proper fourth-rank cavalry general?”
Yuan Meng grinned. “Hell yes, I’d take it! I’m no fool—no way! I’d rather die than go! A You Province cavalry general isn’t even worth as much as a Liang border army captain. Only an idiot would go—total disgrace!”
Xu Feng Nian smirked. “Commandant Yuan, such bold words! Very well. When we pass through You Province, I’ll be sure to mention your ‘heroism’ to Yan Wen Luan, Chen Yun Chui, and Yu Luan Dao. Let’s see how You Province reacts to having a ‘great man’ like you in Liang.”
Yuan Meng forced a smile and said, “Your Highness, Marshal Yan and Deputy Marshal Chen don’t matter much—after all, they’re just infantry commanders and can’t touch my official hat. But please, don’t say such things in front of General Yu. What if he becomes the deputy commander of our Northern Liang Iron Cavalry in the future? What would I do then?”
Xu Fengnian laughed and scolded, “Get lost!”
Yuan Meng slunk away dejectedly.
Soon after, Chen Yu indeed stepped out of the carriage. However, her riding skills were mediocre, and she feared delaying the march because of her, so she shared a horse with Xu Ying, who wore a red robe and a wide-brimmed hat. Xu Fengnian, the giggling girl, and the others rode alongside them.
Chen Yu asked curiously, “May I ask who that nobleman was?”
Xu Fengnian sighed. “A… friend I met during my earliest travels. Back then, apart from two others, he was the one I got along with best. Of course, our bond was a good one—unlike the twisted fate I shared with Xuanyuan Qingfeng from Great Snow Mountain. Truth be told, during those three years, I encountered many people and events, most of which I simply laughed off. For instance, I once met a yet-to-be-famous female knight-errant, surnamed Qi, I think. She had a gentle temper, and by today’s standards, her martial arts were quite ordinary. But her chest… was truly enormous. Every time she sparred with someone, she’d hold back because she felt embarrassed… She was the only female knight-errant I met in those three years who never spoke harshly to us. Sadly, there’s no trace of her in the current martial world of Liyang—perhaps she got married. That fellow earlier? Back then, he was also smitten by some ethereal beauty. Once, that white-robed fairy fought another fairy. To our eyes, their battle was full of celestial grace. But then, the fairy he adored had her sleeve torn by her opponent’s sword near the armpit… and well, that was the end of that.”
Chen Yu was baffled. “Why?”
Xu Fengnian narrowed his eyes and grinned into the distance. “Because we all saw the fairy’s… armpit hair.”
Chen Yu was stunned, torn between laughter and disbelief.
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “Actually, there were plenty of amusing incidents. Like this one guy who joined a martial arts contest to win a bride. The only time he won was because his opponent suddenly had a stomachache during the match. Seizing the rare chance to shine, he chased the poor guy down and yanked at his belt, refusing to let go. And then… well, you can probably imagine the scene. Utterly disgraceful. Or take that dashing young hero who drew his sword to uphold justice—very admirable, very handsome—until he opened his mouth. His crude accent was so thick, no one could tell where he was from. What a pity. Truly, it’s not easy to be the dashing young hero everyone adores in the martial world, eh?”
Chen Yu had no response.
Xu Fengnian spotted a lone rider appearing on a distant slope and laughed heartily, urging his horse forward.
Jia Jiajia and Xu Ying followed suit.
Chen Yu watched the figure ahead.
Suddenly, she began to understand the shift in this young man’s heart. The martial world was a place where it was hard to die unless you wanted to, while the battlefield was a place where survival was never guaranteed, no matter how much you wished to live.
The two had no hierarchy, but they were worlds apart in life and death.
This man named Xu Fengnian—did he truly prefer the green-robed, sword-wielding martial world? Did he truly despise the golden-armored, iron-hooved battlefield?
As if reading her thoughts, Xu Fengnian suddenly turned and grinned. “The battlefield is actually the grandest martial world. Truly. One day, I’ll have a proper slaughter there. ‘Slaying ten thousand enemies’—where in the martial world would you even find ten thousand people to serve as your backdrop?”
The faint goodwill Chen Yu had mustered instantly evaporated.
After turning away, Xu Fengnian spotted the rider and shouted cheerfully, “Aunt!”
Then, behind the armored woman, another rider appeared abruptly—two people on one horse.
Yu Xinlang of Emperor City, holding a little girl in green robes.
Xu Fengnian reined in his horse beside his aunt, Zhao Yutai. As Yu Xinlang approached, he said lightly, “If Your Highness doesn’t mind, may I join your journey?”
Xu Fengnian frowned. “Lou Huang isn’t in Northern Liang.”
Yu Xinlang gently ruffled the little girl’s hair and replied calmly, “This has nothing to do with my junior brother. I simply wish to see the northwestern frontier.”
Xu Fengnian fell silent for a moment before smiling. “Now’s a good time. The Northern Barbarians haven’t caught their breath yet, and the border is relatively peaceful. Who knows if we’ll get another chance to enjoy the desert winds so comfortably?”
Yu Xinlang cut to the chase. “No matter. If war truly breaks out, and Northern Liang has need of me, I’d gladly enlist.”
Xu Fengnian asked curiously, “Not avenging your master? Not afraid your fellow disciples might resent you?”
Yu Xinlang answered frankly, “Those are two separate matters. Besides, we’re not so petty as to hold grudges over this. Speaking of which, when did my master, Wang Xianzhi, ever need his disappointing disciples to avenge him?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “Fair point. That battle back then…”
Yu Xinlang quickly waved his hands with a pained expression. “The details of that battle are between you and my master. Victory, defeat, life, death—those are your affairs alone. But if Your Highness says more, I might just lose my temper and challenge you, knowing full well I’d lose. Then I’d be in a tough spot—too ashamed to go to Northern Liang, and if I don’t go, this little one would throw a tantrum.”
Xu Fengnian nodded.
Zhao Yutai watched Xu Fengnian with satisfaction.
For a proud warrior like Yu Xinlang to “yield” like this—it wasn’t just the title of Northern Liang King that achieved it, nor even the might of the three hundred thousand iron cavalry.
Three riders ascended the slope; five descended.
Xu Fengnian suddenly asked Yu Xinlang, “I heard you’re more dedicated to sword practice than Lou Huang?”
Yu Xinlang nodded.
Xu Fengnian hesitated before asking, “Then have you ever considered this—when you sparred with others, your sword energy soaring, your spirit overwhelming, and the spectators cheered, ‘What a sword! What a sword!’—didn’t you find it awkward? A bit… ruinous of the mood?”
Yu Xinlang was baffled. “Why would it be awkward? If it’s boring, just ignore it. Besides, when I spar, it’s often life and death. I hardly care what others think.”
Xu Fengnian curled his lip and muttered, “Practicing the sword till you’re dull—what kind of young hero is that?”
Yu Xinlang smiled. “What do you mean?”
Just as Xu Fengnian was about to explain with a grin, Chen Yu interjected, “Master Yu, I advise you not to listen to his explanation.”
Yu Xinlang promptly turned away, adopting an aloof stance to leave the topic hanging.
Xu Fengnian had no choice but to turn to his mother’s sword attendant, only for his aunt to shake her head with a smile. “I don’t want to hear it either.”
The young feudal lord, rebuffed at every turn, was now rather melancholic.
Bored, Xu Fengnian hummed a little tune he’d learned from someone in the alleys long ago.
“Say not that I’m poor as a church mouse, my sleeves catching the breeze. Mock not that I sleep without a bed, the earth my blanket. Laugh not that I thirst without fine wine, the great river my jug… There’s no one in this world as fortunate as I, no one as fortunate as I…”
The little girl in green found the song quite amusing.
But as she looked around, why was no one else laughing?
※※※
In the early winter of the second year of Xiangfu, after the audacious feudal lord who had stirred up the capital left for Northern Liang’s territory, it was said that Princess Sui Zhu, Zhao Fengya, had fallen ill and died.
This minor, inconsequential tragedy was quickly overshadowed by the flood of joyous news returning to Tai’an City.
The border armies of the two Liao regions, led personally by the Grand Pillar of the State, Gu Jianjia, with the support of the three imperial relatives—Prince Jiaodong Zhao Shuai, his heir Zhao Yi, and Prince Liao Zhao Xiong—marched north into the desert with the elite Duoyan Cavalry and Blackwater Iron Cavalry as their main force. Sixteen thousand cavalry in total, they achieved the first major victory since Liyang’s failed northern campaigns in the early years of Yonghui, decimating eighty thousand Northern Barbarians. The Northern Barbarian commander, Wang Sui, who had been lingering in their western capital, rushed to the front lines to stem the collapse of the eastern front, delegating authority to two young generals of the autumn and winter hunting parties. They managed to push the border back to the old demarcation line between the two dynasties. Meanwhile, Xu Gong, the Right Vice Minister of War who had been touring the border on behalf of the emperor, led ten thousand light cavalry on a thousand-mile dash. Generals Yuan Tingshan of Ji Province and Han Fang and Yang Huchen deployed their elite forces to support Gu Jianjia’s containment of the Northern Barbarian main army, engaging in fierce battles with the Northern Barbarian commanders Da Ruzhe Shiwei and Wang Jingchong on the flanks. Liyang scored victories on all fronts. Had Prince Liao Zhao Xiong not recklessly pursued personal glory and been defeated by the demoted Eastern Front commander Zhong Tan, the Liyang cavalry might have penetrated deep into Northern Barbarian territory.
In Guangling Province, after their fleeting, all-encompassing victory, the Western Chu forces began to suffer from their dispersed strength. On the eastern front, Kou Jianghuai struggled to hold the line alone. Though he repelled several counterattacks by Song Li and Prince Zhao Yi, the western front crumbled under the relentless assault of Wu Zhongxuan’s hundred thousand southern troops and several reckless charges by central plains armies. Lu Shengxiang, the southern expedition commander who should have been coordinating the forces, also abandoned his post in a “glory-seeking charge,” but unlike Prince Liao Zhao Xiong, he was far “luckier.” His desperate gamble succeeded in striking the eastern front’s rear, decisively turning the tide of the grueling battle. Meanwhile, Prince Shu Chen Zhibao’s ten thousand Shu troops inexplicably appeared on the northern edge of the eastern front, perfectly positioned to intercept a Western Chu reinforcement unit heading west. This finally shattered the undefeated record of the young Western Chu strategist Xie Xichui. The Western Chu forces had no choice but to retreat on all fronts. Except for Cao Zhangqing’s navy, which still held numerical superiority, all of Western Chu’s earlier gains were effectively returned to Liyang.
Amidst this, the news that Northern Liang King Xu Fengnian was to marry a woman from the Lu clan as his principal consort seemed to pass unnoticed, without a ripple.
Liyang was more interested in speculating which military generals and regional officials would attend the celebration at Cool Breeze Mountain’s palace, hoping to identify Xu Fengnian’s true inner circle.
The more critical underlying question was whether this new generation of Northern Liang nobility, qualified to enter Cool Breeze Mountain, harbored more hostility or neutrality toward the Liyang Zhao imperial family.
As for the young feudal lord’s passage through Ji Province into He Province, the military demonstrations by Deputy Generals Han Fang and Yang Huchen became a favorite topic among the capital’s citizens. In contrast, the silence of Prince Han Zhao Xiong, Governor Han Lin, and Military Commissioner Cai Nan invited quiet criticism.
After the Grand General’s death, even the New Year couplets at Cool Breeze Mountain’s palace weren’t red. But now, the palace finally regained some long-lost festive atmosphere. Though no grand red lanterns were hung, the servants and maids smiled at everyone they met.
Lu Dongjiang, head of the Lu clan, who had grown increasingly distant from Cool Breeze Mountain, made an unprecedented visit to the palace, sharing drinks with Song Dongming and Bai Yu.
The previously listless Lu clan youths in Liangzhou City suddenly regained their swagger, carrying themselves with newfound pride.
Wang Linquan, the Qingzhou tycoon turned Northern Liang’s financial mastermind, had been personally overseeing the burgeoning trade in Liu Province. But now, he began to live in seclusion.
Lu Chengyan, unburdened by her relatives’ missteps, ultimately became Northern Liang’s principal consort—not Wang Chuxia, whose family had contributed greatly to Northern Liang. This outcome surprised the entire Northern Liang Province.
Under the night sky, at the foot of White Crane Tower on Cool Breeze Mountain’s peak, Xu Fengnian, Lu Chengyan, and Wang Chuxia sat on stone stools. Xu Fengnian played “The Ballad of the Spring God” on a leaf, Wang Chuxia rested her head on a book placed on the stone table, and Lu Chengyan sat beside them.
Behind them, Jia Jiajia and Xu Ying flitted up and down the tower, delighting in their game.
By the Listening Tide Lake halfway up the mountain, Zhao Yutai and Xu Weixiong held hands, sharing intimate whispers.
On the terrace of the Listening Tide Pavilion, Xu Beizhi and Chen Xiliang stood side by side, two young strategists beginning to make their mark on the world, silent in each other’s company.
※※※
As the night deepened, the crowd dispersed.
Xu Fengnian walked alone to a simple, now-uninhabited cottage.
There, it seemed, stood a delicate girl, glaring at him fiercely as she declared:
“I’m going to learn the sword from Li Chungang—and stab you to death with it!”
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